


Tomorrow

by kriegersan



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:22:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22170250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kriegersan/pseuds/kriegersan
Summary: “All these years and you’re still loyal to him? What is he to you?”“He’s a man,” EVA says. “And he was mine, for a while. Now he belongs to everyone. Until he wakes up, all we have are little pieces left to share.”(1978.)
Relationships: Big Boss/EVA, Big Boss/Kazuhira Miller, EVA/Kazuhira Miller
Comments: 10
Kudos: 72





	Tomorrow

_**March 12, 1978** _  
_**Venice Beach, California, U.S.A.** _

It’s a beautiful morning in Venice. The air, fresh with sea-salt, whips through her hair as EVA takes a corner sharp, cuts off a minivan which blares its horn behind her. She pays no mind, twisting through traffic, until she finds a sweet spot to park her bike, a few blocks away from the meeting point.

She kills the ignition, the bike dying beneath her thighs, then swings her leg off and over, rises to her full height. A few men gawk at her from the sidewalk as she pulls off the helmet, blond hair swinging full and thick behind her head. She winks at one of them as she feeds the meter, and she can feel their eyes watching as she walks away, helmet at her hip.

Sweating under her road leathers with a bit of time to kill, she buys a copy of last week’s _Time Magazine_ from a stand along the boardwalk. Cheryl Tiegs, her shining face on the cover, stares back at her-- _’The All-American Model’_.

It almost makes her laugh. She’d fit that model, once-- cookie-cutter, right to every hard edge. America, a convenient illusion.

The corner cafe they’ve picked is only a little further. She orders a coffee, takes a seat at one of the tables outside and thumbs through her magazine as she waits. Her eyes scan the passersby over the pages, keep an eye out for anyone looking too close.

She smiles behind the rim of her coffee cup as she feels the air shift beside her. “Adam.”

“Tanya. It’s been awhile.”

“Almost three years. A long time.”

EVA finally looks across the table, where Ocelot sits back, long legs stretched ahead of him as he sips black coffee out of a paper cup. His hair is longer, the beginnings of wrinkles in the corners of his eyes as he conceals a wince at the bitterness. He’s never liked black coffee, but he takes it that way because Snake did.

She smiles, demurely, flips another page. “I’m surprised to see you here in the flesh, actually. And here, of all places.”

“What, you don’t like L.A.?”

“I assume you do,” she replies, batting her eyes, “At least here you can wear that awful getup and nobody will spare a second look.”

He recrosses his ankles. He’s not wearing his spurs for once, but he’s still got cowboy boots on. “And you’re how old this year? Seem a bit tired around the eyes, Tatyana.”

“I _am_ tired. It’s been hard.” She sets the magazine down, Cheryl’s blank expression staring outward from the table. “But I’m sure you of all people know that.”

“I do.”

There’s a pause. Traffic sounds in the distance.

“So,” she continues, “Any news?”

He shakes his head. “No changes.”

Her heart sinks, even though she’d known it couldn’t be what he’d summoned her for. The barest bit of hope, silenced once more. 

She takes another sip of her coffee. As she lowers the cup back to the saucer, she looks over at him, murmurs, “And... what about the other one?” Something tugs at her heart, but she keeps her face neutral. 

Ocelot tips his chin down, eyes skirting over to look at her, holding her gaze. “He's coming along. Sooner or later, no one will be able to tell the difference between him and the real thing.”

“Ah. Good.”

She turns away, scans the passersby for a moment, couples hand-in-hand, the click of a Polaroid, a proud father capturing the smiling faces of his children for a moment in time. It’s warm in the sun of early noon, the beach some distance out gathering towels and parasols, and EVA simmers under her leathers, a black spot away from the sand. 

She shrugs off the jacket after a thought. Sweat trickles down her neck, into her cleavage. Cheryl looks on, unchanged, smiling blandly.

“As for me,” Ocelot says, in a tone, “I’ve been busy. There’s still a lot of moving pieces for when he wakes up. Work to be done.” He sets a folder on the table, nudges it towards her without looking. “Unfortunately, some of us didn’t quite get that memo.”

EVA eyes the folder, slips it off the table. Flipped open, there’s a few pages of briefing, washed out photographs paperclipped to the edges. 

She flips it shut, puts it back on the table with a huff of amusement. “Why are you showing me this? He’s your problem.”

“He’s a problem all right.”

“So fix it, Adam.”

“That’s why you’re here.”

Her lips purse. “So what you’re saying is that you can’t handle him?”

“Please. I’m saying that he can’t handle _himself_.”

“I’m listening.”

“He’s volatile. Irrational. You know we’ve been keeping tabs on him, to make sure he’s fit to play his role when the time comes. With the way he’s carrying on, he won’t make it that much longer.”

She sighs. “And you’re pushing this onto my lap, why?”

“He… well, he and I don’t exactly see eye to eye.”

“So he told you to fuck off.”

“In fewer words.” 

Ocelot rubs his mouth. EVA wonders how hard he was hit. 

“You probably deserved it.”

“He needs motivation. Given his track record, you came to mind.”

“And what would give you that impression, I wonder?”

She smiles thinly, raising her coffee cup, as a parent and child walk past. The little boy looks at her baldly, brazenly in the way only a child can, a drippy ice cream cone fisted in his pudgy hand. His mother urges him along, and EVA turns back to Ocelot, who’s regarding her with carefully guarded interest. 

“You have a wealth of history with a certain mutual party. Makes for a mighty appetizing carrot to dangle,” Ocelot says, with barely concealed disdain. 

“And you’re the stick,” she answers. 

Ocelot crosses his arms, looks over at her. “Tanya, you know I’m more than content to leave him to his own devices. But it isn’t up to me.”

“And _you_ know I don’t take orders from _him_.”

She had only spoken to Zero out of absolute necessity, to make sure Snake was safe. She wasn’t his lapdog, or anyone else’s.

“Don’t think of it as an order,” Ocelot continues. “More of a… personal favour.”

“Just how personal?”

“The twins. This year, they’re what-- five, six?”

“Adam,” she says, tightly.

“I know you’d like to see what they look like now.” He tilts his head, regards her with a flat expression. “I might be able to get you some photos.”

She turns her gaze downward. She considers, for a moment, before murmuring, “This offer… I assume that he doesn’t know about this?”

“Know about what?” Ocelot deadpans.

She looks at him for a long moment. He looks away. 

EVA reaches a single finger for the folder on the table, drags it towards her to take a second, closer look. She hums thoughtfully and takes in the details.

“Everything we’ve been through, and this is how you finally meet your match.” She laughs, shows teeth. “How interesting. I’ve never seen you quite so ruffled.”

“He refuses to listen to a word I say. Like he does the opposite out of plain spite.” 

“He doesn’t trust you.”

“And I don’t trust him.”

“You don’t have to.”

“He’s a liability.” There’s a pause, before he murmurs, “I don’t understand what the boss saw in him.”

“My, Adam, is that a hint of jealousy I detect?”

“I understand why we need him at our disposal, but I don’t have to like it.”

“And I assume you already tried your usual methods to ‘convince’ him?”

He snorts. “Don’t think that would be wise, at present. You’ll see what I mean when you... extract him.”

“How cryptic of you.”

“What he needs right now, I can’t give him. Your talents make you exactly the right woman for this type of job.”

“My ‘talents’.”

“He’s losing his faith, Tanya. Guide him back to the path. Give him something to hold onto.”

Holding on. The only thing any of them could do, in the face of the uncertainty of the future. Until he wakes up. 

“All right. I’ll take care of it.”

He finishes the cup of coffee, then sets it down on the table with a hollow sound. “I knew you would.”

“I’m not doing it for you, Adam.” 

“I wouldn’t want you to.” 

They don’t speak for a long moment. Seagulls sound overhead, the clinking of cutlery and coffee cups blends with traffic, people talking and music spilling out along the boardwalk. It’s a sweet little bubble of banality, here by the beach. She watches Ocelot watch the waves. They are two foreigners in an ignorant world that wasn’t made with them in mind.

EVA reaches across the table, and touches his arm. “It's good to see you. I’ve missed you.”

He glances at her out of the side of his eye, and gives her one of his rare, genuine half-smiles. They’ve known each other far too long. To think she almost shot him, once. It feels like a lifetime ago.

Ocelot pats her hand, then stands up. “You have all the information you need in that file,” he says. “Burn after reading. I’ll be in touch.”

“And I’ll be waiting.”

Ocelot smirks. He gestures to her, hands like pistols, in dismissal. 

She watches him saunter off as she finishes her own coffee. She stands up, swinging her jacket over her shoulder with two manicured fingers, looks out on the ocean, where it stretches onto the horizon.

The folder and magazine stay tucked into the corner of her elbow as she walks. Cheryl watches her from the cover with those soulless eyes, until EVA throws her into the garbage bin at the end of the sidewalk.

* * *

**_March 16, 1978_ **  
**_West Hollywood_ **

It takes her two days to track him down, and another two watching from a distance to make her move. It’s a Friday night when she follows him down an alleyway and further down a set of stairs into a seedy, not entirely legal nightclub.

She brushes past kids not young enough to be here, men in suits who look terrified of being found out, women and men laughing together and boys kissing in dark corners. Donna Summer flows through the speakers, a shining ball sending dazzling light over the sprawl of moving bodies. It smells like sweat and vodka, cigarettes and hairspray cloud the air. 

EVA’s got her tits out. Of course she does, squeezed them into a low-cut, tight dress, a pistol in a thigh holster concealed underneath the hem. Her hair is loose and her makeup is glittery, and it gets her the kind of attention she needs to have a throng of people around her as cover. She raises her arms over her head and moves into the crush, a carefree girl smiling and having fun. Hands take her hips, she doesn’t know if it’s a man or a woman or who it is, but her eyes never stop searching the crowd for that blonde head of his.

She lays in wait to make her move. A few women buy her alcohol she pretends to drink, the boys offer her quaaludes and blow she turns down. _He_ accepts of course, and by the time he’s slinking off to the bathroom she’s in pursuit.

The men’s bathroom has only a trough and one stall, the door shut with two sets of feet inside. The mirror is occupied by some drag queens doing lines, and there’s a guy with his dick out taking a piss and another one watching. They all look her way as she peeks her head in.

“Cops,” she says. “Better cut out if you know what’s good for you.”

They clean up their drugs and tuck their cocks back into their pants. She lets them go in a hurry, and locks the door behind her. She can hear the jostling of belts and soft swearing, before the stall door blows open and Kazuhira Miller tumbles out.

His mouth is all red, there’s white in his nose and he’s zipping up his pants. He’s out of it, on something, his steps uneasy as he moves toward the door. He stops abruptly when he finally lays eyes on her, even if she can’t see them through those stupid sunglasses.

EVA smiles briefly, and her eyes flick to the man at his side. He’s big and burly, dark hair with a beard. Almost a dead ringer, but the eyes aren’t the same. She looks back to Kaz, to where his jaw has gone all tight.

The man glances to her, then his counterpart. “Shit… it’s not what it looks like.”

“It’s time to go,” she says to Kaz, disregarding the other man altogether.

“Who are you?” Kaz asks.

There’s a standoff. The dark haired man starts to move, and she lets him go past her, anonymous. Kaz holds his ground.

He’s angry. That much is obvious. He didn’t expect her, and certainly not here. The drugs have dampened his temper somewhat, increased paranoia, but he’ll be easy enough to subdue if he tries anything.

“I’m here to talk,” EVA says. She raises her palms in surrender.

“Bullshit. Who sent you?”

“No one sent me.”

“I don’t believe you.” 

She chuckles. “I suppose I wouldn’t believe me either.”

A pause.

Kaz makes a move, then, and she expects it, mirroring him and ducking in where he’s unguarded. She strikes him hard to the ribs, and he sends a fist flying over her head that catches the edge of her hair, sends it arcing over her shoulder. EVA hooks her ankle behind his instep, twists him to get an arm behind his back and slams him face-first into the side of the stall.

He knocks an elbow back, nails her in the solar plexus but she hooks an elbow around his windpipe, and _pulls_ while he struggles. His sunglasses are on the ground, and she kicks them aside to adjust her footing. She pulls out her Mauser from the holster, presses it to his temple.

“After all I’ve heard, Miller, I have to say, I expected more from you.”

“Fuck you, bitch,” he says through a mouthful of blood. “If Cipher sent you--”

“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m on your side.”

He laughs, bitterly. “I don’t have a side anymore.”

“I don’t think your boss would like to hear you say that.”

She hears the tiny inhale, the tension in his body. He turns his head against the gun.

“Boss…? Is he--”

“I have information.” She presses the barrel to his temple, then moves it away. “So be a good boy, and don’t attack me again.”

Kaz stiffens, then nods. She lets him go, gun in hand.

He turns to face her. She can see his eyes now, bloodshot, the hollows underneath from lack of sleep. He wipes his bloody nose with the back of his hand, and gives her a proper once-over.

“I know your voice.”

“We’ve never met before, but you know who I am.”

He eyes her suspiciously, but she can see the dawning recognition on his face. As a show of good will, EVA holsters her weapon, and bends over to pick up his sunglasses. She looks at him through them, then wipes the smudges off on the edge of her dress.

EVA extends the sunglasses, and smiles. “So… your place or mine?”

* * *

They take her bike through side-streets, doubling back to obfuscate their path. It’s warm outside, her hair billowing in the wind, and EVA drives too fast as always. Kaz holds her waist, presses his body against her back, too close for comfort.

She parks in an alley, taking note of their surroundings if she needs a quick escape. It’s a rundown neighbourhood, and Kaz leads her up an outside staircase to the second floor of a non-descript apartment. They walk down the hall, and he glances over his shoulder before unlocking the door and taking them inside. 

His fingers fumble for the lightswitch ahead of him, and EVA moves past to turn it on. Light washes over an empty room, with little more than a box spring and mattress in one corner with creased sheets and a balled up blanket, a dirt brown sofa with a dip in the middle, a phone and a ten year old TV on a rickety stand. The light in the kitchen doesn’t work, and the fridge hums, the water drips over the dishes in the sink. There are bottles all over the counter, most empty, among other party favours.

There’s a radio on the kitchen counter that looks like the only thing worth a cent in the entire pad. The bathroom is little more than a closet, with a stand-up shower, sink and a toilet, and there are more toiletry items than anything else in the place. All of his clothes are neatly hung and coordinated on a rolling rack by the bed, looking immaculate and pressed.

It’s a bachelor pad, all right. Her nose wrinkles at the smell of mildew and stale booze, and Kaz stumbles over to the window. With a bit of elbow grease he gets it open, and the sound of police sirens and noise rise up to greet them.

“Sorry,” he says, throwing her a sheepish grin. “I don’t bring many women around, and this place isn’t exactly long-term.”

“I’ve seen worse.” 

“And don’t worry-- despite the squalor, I haven’t lost my touch. It’s secure. We’re safe to talk here.”

“I believe you.” 

“Anyway, make yourself at home,” he says, disappearing into the washroom. “I’ll be right out.” 

She toes off her heels, counts to five, then does a quick search of the room. He’s got a silenced M19 hidden under his mattress, another one taped behind the TV, an M16A1 under the sink. Search completed, she walks over to take a seat at one end of the sofa, and finds herself listing towards the dip. She wonders how much time he spends sitting there, alone. 

He comes out looking more cleaned up. The scent of cologne dominates the room as Kaz crosses to the kitchen. He flicks on the radio, turns the volume down when it blares out abruptly, Samantha Sang’s voice flowing through the speakers. He cleans up bottles, hastily squirrels away some powders and pills EVA pretended not to notice.

“Want a drink?” Kaz asks. “I have beer and... beer.”

“Well, aren’t you the benevolent host? Sure, I’ll have one.” 

He returns with two bottles, and presses one into her palm, their fingers brushing. She smiles at him, flirtatious and inviting, before taking a nice, long sip. He mirrors her actions as he sits next to her, too close, and she can tell he’s looking her over through his shades.

“So,” EVA starts, “Tell me what you’ve been up the past few years.”

Kaz scoffs. “I’m sure you already know.”

“Of course I do.”

“Ocelot told you about me.”

“He had a lot to say about you.”

Kaz chuckles. “Of course he did. Arrogant bastard. Thinks because he’s got ten years on me that must make him so much more important.”

“He _is_ important to Snake,” EVA says. “So are you, but in a different way.”

An ugly scowl comes over Kaz’s mouth. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You and Snake were close. Almost as close as that man you were with in the bathroom. Pretty tight fit in there.” She winks.

It’s not as though she didn’t know about it. It’s apparently news to Kaz that other people talk, the way he’s gone all red in the face.

“It's not how it looked,” Kaz says, lamely.

“Of course not.” 

EVA lets him off the hook. She wants him on edge, not outright defensive. 

“Look,” Kaz starts, “Weren’t you supposed to have information for me? I don’t need an interrogation.”

“Hardly,” she responds. “There’s no reason we can’t get to know one another a little, Kazuhira.”

He almost cringes at the name. He runs a hand through his hair as if to cover it. 

“Haven’t heard that name in awhile, I suppose?” She smiles. “Would you prefer Benedict, or just Miller?”

“...Kaz is fine.”

“Kaz, then. You can call me EVA.”

“Sure.”

He drinks. He seems uncomfortable, like he’s itching to hear what she has to say. She waits patiently, watches him squirm.

“These past few years, I’ve been here and there,” he starts, “Rhodesia, mostly, training men to fight. After awhile, I got bored of the scenery, so now, L.A. I had nothing better to do.”

“Nothing? Really?”

“How long was I supposed to wait?”

EVA bites her tongue. She looks at him then, how untethered he is from his past self. She hadn’t known him then, only known of him through word of mouth. Whispers of the MSF, of Snake, of the golden haired, silver tongued man at his side. As their world fell into the sea, the whispers grew louder, and EVA had surfaced towards shore the way she always did when Snake needed her.

Her silence perturbs him. She can see him start to tense as she sits back, sipping her beer, observing him.

“Well,” he says, his tone sharp. “Are you going to keep wasting my time, or are you going to say it?”

EVA says nothing.

Kaz’s fist balls up against his thigh. “Is he--”

“No. Not yet.”

The air goes out of him. He sits back, and she watches the disappointment pull him deeper into the dip in the center. His leg brushes hers, and she doesn’t move away.

“Then why are you even here? If Ocelot sent you, then--”

“It’s more of a social call. I told you, I thought we should get to know one another. We’re in the same boat, you and I.”

“Because I’m supposed to trust you?”

“Yes.”

“Why the hell should I?”

“Because I know Snake better than anyone,” she says. “Except for maybe you.”

She watches as his lips curl in, like hearing that name is too much. She can see what he’s doing, like he’s trying to dash out the very thought of him. Maybe it’s too much for poor Kazuhira, being on his own.

She knows what it’s like to go without. She’s gotten used to the ache, seems to fair better than him. She always knew how to take a beating.

“You told me you had information.”

“It’s the same information that Ocelot had that he said you weren’t very interested to hear.”

“And you believe him based on what? That S-- that he’s going to come back? That Zero and that asshole aren’t entirely full of shit and just giving you the run-around to watch what you’ll do?”

“Ocelot and I go way back. I trust him.”

“So? It’s been three years. Three fucking years of nothing.”

“I know. It’s been hard on you, hasn’t it, Kaz?”

He doesn’t answer. After a moment, he wipes a hand over his mouth, and asks, “Have you seen him?”

“Not since that day.”

His teeth grit. “Why can’t I--”

“You need to see him to believe?”

“What? So I should just go on pure faith? Like he’s-- _God_ or something?”

EVA smiles. “Your words, not mine.”

“So how long am I supposed to wait? Am I supposed to keep chasing ghosts even though he’s not here for any of it? I can’t take down Cipher without him. It’s pointless.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Who cares? Mother Base was bombed to shit and sunk into the ocean. And now what have I got? Empty promises. None of this means anything if he isn’t here for it.”

He finishes off his beer in one long pull. He’s drinking too fast, and he was already half-gone when they got here. 

“I’m sorry for what happened to you.”

“I don’t need your pity.” 

“So, then, what are you going to do to make it up to him? You’re still here. You still have work to do.”

Kaz gives her a sour look. He crosses his ankle over his knee, sizing her up. “Who are you to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do? I know next to nothing about you.”

“I don’t really think it’s me you’re interested in.”

“You’re right-- I don’t really give a crap.”

“All that matters is who I am to Snake, right? Who I was.” She smiles. “I suppose you want to know what he was like when I met him?”

There’s something about the tension in his mouth, the way he holds himself back from asking. Ah, yes. This is the ticket.

“It feels like such a long time ago, and just yesterday, at the same time.” She leans over her legs, plants her chin on her fist. “I suppose he has a way of making everything feel like that. It’s like my whole life I was waiting to meet him.”

“I don’t want to hear how you _feel_ ,” Kaz says. “Just-- tell me what happened.”

“Did he not tell you much about Operation Snake Eater?” 

“Of course. He told me everything.”

She smiles, deceptively. “Oh… I suppose he would. You were his second-in-command, after all.”

“Still… I’m always open to hear more,” Kaz says. “I’ve learned a lot from others.”

“Ocelot?”

Kaz’s smile slips. “He doesn’t seem to be the sharing type.”

“Ah. Zero, then?” She chuckles. “He and Snake didn’t always see eye to eye.”

“So how did you see it?”

She licks her lips, wracks her memory.

“When I met Snake… he was ragged. Hurt, and he didn’t do a very good job of hiding it. He was easy to manipulate. Of course he didn’t trust me, not at first. But still, he had to work with me.” 

“It was his mission, wasn’t it?”

“Sure,” she says. “He didn’t have a choice-- he had to accept me. But he had a choice with you. He could’ve killed you. He should’ve. It would’ve saved him a lot of trouble.”

Kaz keeps a neutral face. There are secrets there, but he’s so easy to read, even with those stupid sunglasses. She dangles towards him, her breasts spilling out of the top of her dress. She puts her beer onto the carpet, and reaches for his glasses. He practically flinches, but she doesn’t relent.

“May I?” She tilts her head, looks at him all doe eyes. 

He takes them off himself. He squints, his eyes adjusting to the low light in the room, then deposits his shades to the arm of the sofa. He’s got a bruise starting along his brow bone from earlier, but his eyes are sharp as he stares back at her with his naked gaze.

“There he is,” EVA says, with a smile. “Now I see what all the fuss is about.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You have beautiful eyes. You really shouldn’t hide them.”

He looks at her then, for a long moment, before he starts to stand. He takes his bottle to the kitchen on unsteady feet, and grabs another out of the fridge. He doesn’t offer her one this time, and he lingers in the kitchen, like the physical distance will make this easier.

Kaz crosses his arms, beer dangling in one hand. “Go on.”

“I had my orders, and he had his, and they just so happened to align. For the most part. Working with him… he was incredible. I’d never seen a soldier so dedicated to his mission, no matter the cost. He was fighting against every natural instinct he had, all for the greater good. And… he seemed immune to me in ways I’d never seen in a man before. There was an innocence about him. He fascinated me, and I suppose the one thing I could never have anticipated was falling in love.”

Kaz stays silent. She can see the white of his fingertips where he presses hard around the neck of his beer.

“I was supposed to kill him, you know. I couldn’t do it. Not just because of how I felt, but because she told me not to.”

“She…?”

“The Boss, of course.”

He shakes his head. “Why are you telling me all of this? What’s in this for you?” 

“It’s not about me. I’m here because of Snake.”

“All these years and you’re still loyal to him? What is he to you?”

“He’s a man,” EVA says. “And he was mine, for a while. Now he belongs to everyone. Until he wakes up, all we have are little pieces left to share.”

She uncrosses and crosses her legs. She can see Kaz’s eyes dipping to where her thighs slide together.

“I’m curious… did he ever talk about me?” she asks.

“Actually, until you sent us those tapes, I think he’d forgotten about you entirely.”

EVA smiles. She can tell by the crease around his eyes that he’s not being entirely honest with her.

“Were you jealous, Kazuhira? Did you listen to them wondering if he’d leave you to come find me?”

A smile cracks his face, then. Full of lies. 

“Why would I be jealous of you?” 

“Because you don’t just want a piece. You’d take everything, if he let you.”

He goes red in the face, and she’s not sure if it’s from the alcohol or the anger or both. It’s fascinating watching him get riled up, though, and she may be goading him on just to see it. 

“I don’t know what the hell you think you’re saying, but--”

“Get me another beer,” EVA says, “Cut the attitude, and come sit beside me. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

There’s a moment where she thinks he’s going to lash out. Then, the anger leaks out of him like a sieve, and he’s all jovial smiles again as he gets another beer and brings it to her. She pats the cushion next to her, and he sits down, closer this time.

He drinks, and she talks. She recounts Operation Snake Eater in detail-- the parts she wants to tell him, of course. There’s bits that are just for her, like the way Snake had looked at her, the expression on his face as he came back from the meadow, that night they’d shared in Alaska. Kaz knows more than she thought he would, but his words become less barbed and angry as the night continues into morning. 

It was never like Snake to share his feelings. She can’t ignore the tweak of jealousy, but she’s a spy. It never surfaces, the way all of Kaz’s pent up feelings do. Maybe that’s why Snake liked him. His affection shows, just the way he talks about his long-lost boss. She wonders if that’s what drew Snake to him, the emotional volatility laying right there under the surface. 

“So what about The Boss?” Kaz asks, as her story winds down. “Did you see it happen?”

“Her death?”

“When he…”

He gestures. EVA shakes her head. “No.”

“What happened to her? Really? Is what she told you even true?”

“I believe so,” EVA says. “What do you think?”

“I saw what happened with Peace Walker… I watched her A.I. walk into the sea. I believe The Boss was innocent,” Kaz says, “But still-- she laid down her gun, and turned her back on him and everything she stood for.”

“Is that what you think?” she asks. 

“He said---”

“You know there was nothing she could do.”

Kaz shakes his head. “She betrayed him.”

“But then, aren’t you doing the same thing she did? Turning your back on him? Where is your loyalty?”

His eyes narrow. “I’m not like her.” 

“You’re not?”

“I didn’t--” He grits his teeth, cutting off his words.

“How do you think things got this bad? You went to Cipher, behind his back. Working with Zero always comes with strings attached.” 

The fact that she lays it out flat like that makes him instantly tense, and he turns on her like a cornered animal.

“If you came here to _blame_ me, then you can get the hell out. I don’t need to hear it.”

She raises her hands, pacifying him. “I’m not blaming you.”

“That’s right-- this didn’t happen because of me. It was Cipher’s fault. That two-faced bitch, Paz. Most of all, Zero.”

“Yes,” she lies. “But you’re forgetting your part in all of this, Kazuhira.”

“What? To keep it going, without him, just like Zero wants? What about what _I_ want? I couldn’t get the remaining members of MSF to stick around for long. They won’t, not without their boss. I’m nothing without him.”

“But you made him into who he is. MSF wasn’t his idea. Without you, he would’ve been wandering around in a jungle, fighting for the sake of fighting. He never wanted a _business_. A legacy. This never would’ve happened if not for you.”

“So what? I built an army out of nothing for him. I made deals with the devil just to make it something more, something he could be proud of.”

Kaz’s voice cracks, and he shuts his mouth, like he’s embarrassed. He lowers his head.

“You’re lying to yourself,” EVA says.

“Bullshit! I was with him, down in the dirt for three fucking years! Where the hell were you? Where were any of you? So don’t give me that.” His voice goes soft, and he looks away. “I-- I built us a home. What do you want me to say? That I regret it?”

“No. I want you to say, that when he comes back… you’ll be there to bring him home,” EVA says, with conviction in her voice. “He needs you.”

Kaz is quiet for a long moment, before he starts to slump over onto his knees. He sways, and his empty bottle falls to the carpet and rolls, spilling foam into the shag.

“Three years today,” he mumbles. “Can you believe it? We only worked together for three years. It feels like he was there my whole life.”

“I know,” EVA says quietly.

“Sometimes I start wondering if it was even real, or if I just dreamed it all.”

She doesn’t say anything as he covers his face with his hand, and releases a long sigh.

“I have to think to remember his face, now. The way he sounds. I just wish I could hear his voice. It's all my fault.”

Gently, EVA reaches over and puts a hand on his back. “I miss him, too.”

He seems to bristle to the touch initially, then leans towards her. EVA lets him, until he eventually lays down into her lap, his head pillowed against her bare thighs. His eyes are closed, and she can tell he’s almost reluctant to receive her touch, even though he’s desperate for it.

“I swear I’m not usually this pathetic,” he says with a laugh.

“You’re just drunk.”

“Will he even want me? Any of this? I’m not the man I was three years ago. That man died with MSF.”

“That’s not true. You have the funding, the knowledge, the connections, the experience. You know that.” She puts her hand on his head, his hair stiff with gel. “You’re just throwing yourself a pity party.”

“H-hey... I'm not.”

She’s quiet, for a moment. She runs her nails through his hair, loosening it from its hold. Kaz makes a small noise, easing into her gentle hold.

“I think it’s nice to have someone to talk to... about him,” EVA says. “Someone who understands. It gets so lonely, doesn’t it?”

She doesn’t intend for it to be so honest. She doesn’t get to talk about this often. For all the world knows, Snake is dead. A fading memory of a time come to pass, of an old world. 

“Snake,” she says. She closes her eyes, breathes him in. “He always has a way of turning up just when you need him. It was years ago, now. ‘71, I think. I got myself into some real trouble. Thought I was done for.”

She pauses for effect.

“I was in Hanoi. It was just after the American public had become aware of the Pentagon Papers, and just how much the Johnson administration had concealed the scope of their actions in Vietnam. The CIA was afraid of more information leaking. I’d been expelled from China. I failed my mission, and so I was more or less a free agent with no allegiance or anyone to miss me when I was gone. So they sent a task force and tracked me down like a dog.

“I was like you are now, then,” she continues. “I felt… lost. Aimless, for a time. My whole life I’d always had a purpose, a clear direction of what I was supposed to be fighting for. I was on the run, alone. Just surviving really, and only barely. I was captured during a raid, and kept prisoner for weeks on end. They interrogated me nonstop. They kept me in a cage, below ground. I survived off of rainwater and rats.”

She runs her fingers through Kaz’s hair, pausing when he murmurs, “That's horrible. How did you escape?”

“It was night time, I think. I’d lost track of the days, but it was dark. I remember seeing the stars, and then this light washing over me. The cage unlocked. All I could hear was my own heartbeat. My captors pulled me up, and they tied my hands. I was blindfolded. I was weak and... I couldn’t stop them. They raped me. Tortured me. They did whatever they wanted to me, and I gave them nothing. When they were done, they walked me out into the jungle.

“I was naked. Barefoot. I couldn’t see, either, but I knew it was the end for me. If I tried to fight, if I tried to run, they would shoot me down. They put me on my knees, and I felt the muzzle to the back of my head, and all I could think of was that I wasn’t ready for it to be over. After all of that suffering, I wasn’t ready to die. But I wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of begging for my life, either.

“I waited for the shot. I remember them laughing at me. I remember my legs sticking together from the blood. I remember them grabbing my hair, pushing me into the mud. They couldn’t get a reaction out of me. So I waited. But the shot never came.”

Her eyes flutter shut at the memory. She can still remember the sound of his voice, the way he’d said it. How gentle his hands were, cradling her face.

“Snake. He killed them all, for me. He pulled me into his arms even though I was filthy and shaking, and it was like all that uncertainty… all that pain. It was worth it. He told me he was there to take me home. Why? Why would he do that, after everything I’d done to him? He took me out of that jungle and offered me a new beginning. A place by his side. No country, no ideology. Just people with a shared love, a shared past, trying to shape a better future-- to make the world one. But… of course you already know how that ended.”

EVA smiles to herself. She tilts her head, looking down at where Kaz’s eyes have softened, and he’s lost that harsh look. She sees him the way Snake might’ve seen him, then, all that promise in those eyes.

“Somehow I always knew he would come for me. He told me he was looking for me all that time and-- nobody had ever needed me like that. I had spent so long hiding from what was right in front of me, and when he pulled me into his arms it was like… seeing the universe.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” 

She smiles. Snake had sounded just as skeptical.

“The past I’d run from, and the future that was suddenly possible. I saw all of it,” she says. “What was I fighting for? Who was I fighting for, anymore? Myself? Nothing? My country had abandoned me.

“Snake… I asked myself how I could’ve ever left him in the first place. He could make the world change. He made _mine_ change. Out of love. But he couldn’t do it alone, and so for him, I’ll always come when he calls for me, and even sometimes when he doesn’t. And so will you.”

It’s only then that Kaz sits up. EVA retracts her hands, sets them into her lap as Kaz smooths out his hair. He rubs a hand over his face, and seems lost in his thoughts, like there’s something on his tongue he wants to say but isn’t sure how to get out.

“I think… the truth is that we all need each other,” EVA murmurs. "We weren't meant to be alone."

He looks at her then, his eyes searching hers for the truth. It’s not the truth. Not even close to it. She knows what Zero has planned, but this is her job. Sell him the lie, no matter the cost.

EVA expects it when he leans forward and kisses her. He’s lonely. Desperate for a connection with a past that’s been laid dormant by circumstance.

When he pulls away, he at least has the awareness to look a little guilty. He runs a hand through his hair, offers a grin that would look sweet and apologetic to a lesser woman. “Ah… you probably didn’t mean it like _that.”_

She says nothing, with a smile that looks gentle, but isn’t. 

Kaz stews in it, the smile slipping off his face. He realizes he’s embarrassed himself, and glances towards the window where it’s so dark it’s near sunrise. 

“It’s getting late,” EVA comments.

“I didn’t mean to scare you off.”

“You didn't.”

“You’re probably exhausted,” he says, and his eyes go strange and tight, “Why don’t you sleep here? My bed is big enough.”

There’s desperation in his voice he probably doesn’t intend to be there. He’s staring at her like a starving man. 

“I’ll be a gentleman, I swear.”

EVA hesitates, for show. Of course she’ll stay. She’ll fuck him into submission if it means he’ll behave and play his part. If it’s what he needs. If it’s what Snake used to give to him, and he needs a reminder of his place.

“I just… I want to be close to someone else who knows him. Just for awhile,” Kaz says, his eyes shining.

She takes his hand in hers, and pats it the way a mother would a child.

“I’ll stay.”

This seems to light him up inside. Kaz smiles, a genuine one, but there’s something opportunistic under it. He’s a salesman, alright, and a good salesman will sell no matter the method. 

“Want something more comfortable to sleep in?”

“That would be nice. Thank you.”

After a bit of searching he produces a worn, oversized shirt that smells worn but is clean enough. No bottoms, of course. She changes out in the open, aware that he’s looking out of the corners of his eyes as he stumbles about to clean up the bottles, the spilled beer. She unhooks her bra under the shirt, and slides her arms out of the straps, leaves it over the arm of the sofa. The shirt barely hits the top of her thighs, and Kaz’s eyes linger where it rides up to show more.

She puts her gun and thigh holster next to her bra. When she walks to the bed, she lets her hips sway, then goes onto her hands as her knees hit the edge. She can feel him watching her as she slips her legs beneath the covers.

Kaz flicks off the lights as he wanders to the bed in the corner of the suite. He strips save for his underwear, then takes the side closest to the open window. She lays down. The pillows are lumpy, and the spring pokes her in the back, but it’s not the worst place she’s ever spent the night. It smells like Kaz’s overly strong cologne and sweat, like he doesn’t sleep when it’s dark.

EVA lets her arms fall over her head and she sighs. She knows it’s only a matter of time before he makes a move. It’s easier to be honest when the lights are out, and no one is there to see.

It’s noisy outside. Birdsongs, highway trucks in the distance. Police sirens. Light bleeds through the window, and she looks over and sees him looking back at her. EVA lets her lashes flutter, looks at him with bedroom eyes.

“Hey,” Kaz says, into the low light.

“Yes?”

“Do you ever dream about him?” 

“Sometimes.”

“Are they good dreams?”

“Sometimes.” 

He smiles. “Same here.”

“What do you dream about?” 

“The sunset,” Kaz murmurs. “It wasn’t long before… before everything happened that we spent time together by the ocean, sitting in the sand and just talking for hours.”

“That sounds nice.”

“I think it’s why I came to L.A. in the first place. I missed the beach. It makes me feel close to him, somehow.” He goes quiet, for a moment, then speaks out into the low light. “In the dreams, I already know what’s going to happen. But no matter what, no matter how much I talk, I can’t seem to tell him.”

“You wish you’d have done things differently.”

“Sometimes,” he murmurs.

_All the time._

“Everyone has regrets,” EVA says.

“I’ve got more than most.”

There’s a pregnant pause, where she can practically see the thoughts in his clear, blue eyes. She draws in a soft breath as he slides a hand over her waist, and shifts closer, until he’s on top of her with his elbows on either side of her head. 

“Some gentleman,” EVA says, with a breathy chuckle.

He’s looking at her so intensely, staring at her mouth. He pushes her hair back off her face, behind her ear, and his touch is more gentle than she would’ve thought. 

“Come on, EVA. You could’ve said no. What did you really think was going to happen, getting into bed with me?”

She leans up, whispers into his ear. “The same thing that happens when anyone gets into bed with you.”

Kaz seems mildly perturbed by her words, goes tense in her arms, but it’s washed away when she slides a hand down to cup him through his briefs. He pushes his hips into her hand, lets the rest of his weight come down on her body.

He leans down to kiss her, and this time she lets him. He’s a good kisser, she’ll give him that. His mouth is soft, just enough tongue, nothing like the rough, desperate kisses Snake had given her all those years ago. When they’d made love it had been more of a shared passion from living, where Kaz kissed her like he was trying to get something out of her.

EVA slides her hand through his hair, and pulls him closer. He’s breathing heavy into her mouth, rolling his hips into her palm, and she pulls him away to push him down where she wants him. His hands slide up under the shirt he so generously gave her, skimming up her sides to help her take it off. He’s hardly the worst man she’s ever had, but the amount of pity she feels for him makes it hard to put her mind into the quiet, numb place it usually goes.

She lays back, only her panties on, and her hair fanned out over her head. Kaz sits back and stares at her breasts, his fingers skimming lightly over her nipples. She smiles at him, sliding her hands down to cup them with her hands. He leans down to press a kiss to the underside of her breast, his tongue flicking out to taste her nipple. She inhales, and it’s almost annoying that he actually has any skill at this whatsoever. She doesn’t want to actually feel sorry for him.

He spends more time massaging her and kissing her than she thought he would. A man like Miller, she assumed he would get straight to the point, but he’s patient. Of course he’s patient. He’s been waiting for three years already, and this is the closest he’ll get to his boss in the meantime.

Just when EVA’s about to tell him to move on, he backs off, and his eyes wander lower. His fingers skim down her torso, and stop to trace out a faint scar along her ribs. One from Volgin, she’d almost forgotten about. 

“How’d you get this one?” he asks. 

He seems fascinated by the evidence of violence enacted on her. She’s only experienced it one other time, by one other man, and their similarity steals the words from her as his fingers draw across the mark.

“Did he--”

“It’s from a lover who liked to play rough,” she answers, quietly.

“You don’t have to be coy. I know what you were to him.”

There’s another man in bed with them, one that neither of them can see or ever be rid of. He thinks that Snake did this to her. Left her marked up, like some kind of possession. Of course, he’s got scars all over him, and she lets herself really look and already knows exactly which ones Snake put there.

Kaz leans down to press his mouth to the scar. It’s reverent, almost. She pushes him lower, his mouth dragging down over her stomach. He hooks his fingers into her panties, and stops again. The light from the window hits her just so that the line of white is stark against her skin. 

His thumb draws across the neat scar on her abdomen. “This looks surgical.”

Out of all her scars, this is the one she likes to think of the least. She pushes his shoulder, but he doesn’t budge.

“Why are you stopping?” she asks, in her breathiest voice. 

“This is what keeps you tied to him… isn’t it? It’s why you hang on.”

EVA’s blood runs cold. She fakes a smile. What the hell did Zero tell him?

“And here I always thought it was women who liked pillow talk,” EVA says. "Are you going to fuck me or what?"

“Fuck you?" His brows raise towards his hairline. "I’ll admit, it wasn't my finest moment practically begging you to come to bed, but I had to see for myself. Technology hasn’t gotten far enough that we could grow cloned cells outside the womb, but--”

She smacks him hard across the mouth before she can stop herself, and Kaz yells out, grabbing for her wrist. He pins her down, and she fights back and feels the blood drip down from his mouth onto her face. She can feel his cock surge against her, his hips holding her down.

“Relax,” Kaz says. “ _Relax!”_

“Get off of me!”

He leans closer as she struggles, his eyes mirthful. “You asked me earlier if I was jealous… I think it’s you who’s jealous of me. I got him to myself for three whole years, and you had to settle for a cheap imitation. I saw how he reacted to you-- you disgusted him.”

She knees him hard in the balls. Kaz grunts, and rolls off, giving her enough time to get on top of him and pin him to the bed. She darts for the gun under the mattress, and presses the barrel between his eyes.

“Easy,” Kaz says. He’s got a smug look on his face, like he’s proud of himself for having something on her. “I know you’re not gonna kill me. You need me.”

She pulls the gun away from his head and fires two shots straight into the pillow beside his head. The sound is muffled, but he still flinches. 

“Are you insane!?” 

“Are you? You’re living on borrowed time already, and here you’re wasting it trying to destroy yourself. You act like you’re the only one who’s lost something.” She shakes her head, sitting back on her haunches. He’s still hard against her, and she scoffs. “You’re pathetic, Miller.”

“Glass houses, EVA.” He settles his hands on her thighs. “What is it you really want?”

“I made a promise a long time ago that I would keep Snake alive, and you made a promise that you would get revenge on Cipher. I expect you to keep that promise.”

“What about you?” 

“What about me?”

“What do you get out of this?”

She hesitates. She has no reason to tell him, but he probably already knew. She’s never said it out loud before.

“I... never got to hold them.”

“Oh.” Kaz’s eyes soften, imperceptibly. “I’m… sorry.”

He is genuinely sorry, although he seems surprised by the fact. The idea of this man feeling pity for her is revolting. He has no idea what he’s got coming for him. 

EVA rolls off of him, onto her back, the gun still in her hand. Kaz props himself up on his side, glancing at the bullet holes in the pillow, then to her.

“Why did you do it?” Kaz asks. “They’re not even really human.”

“Stop it.”

“I want to know.”

“Because I didn’t want to live in a world without some part of him in it."

Admitting it is too honest. She keeps her face as neutral as she can, even as her breathing changes. Kaz doesn't speak. He reaches for her hair, and moves a piece of it off her face, and his hands are gentle the same way Snake’s could be. He slips a finger under her chin, and turns her face to look up at his. She remains guarded where her words aren't. 

“Then you and I are no different, EVA. We gave everything for him.”

“You still have much more to give.”

“So what if I’ve already given my youth? What else?”

“Your soldiers?” 

“Your children?” he asks.

“An arm and a leg?”

Kaz laughs. “Future and past, my life and my death. He took everything from me the day we met. It all belongs to Snake.”

“We all do.”

With that, EVA sighs. She feels empty. Almost relieved. He understands.

Kaz sits up next to her. He seems whole in the light coming in from the window. The sun is rising past the horizon, painting him with shades of morning, pale gold and orange.

“I’m not giving up. I never did,” he says. “I’ll wait as long as I have to, until he comes back. Together, we’ll kill Zero, and take down Cipher.” 

She says nothing. She doesn’t need to, anymore.

“And it has nothing to do with you,” he adds, looking over his shoulder at her.

“I know.”

“I’m doing it for myself,” he says, like he didn’t hear her. “For MSF, for the men we lost.” He lowers his voice, and looks out at the window. “For the boss.”

“For The Boss,” EVA says. She closes her eyes, only for a moment. “For Snake.”

He doesn’t say anything else. There isn’t anything to say. 

EVA gets out of his bed, taking his gun with her. She takes her time gets dressed, and puts her shoes on. She enters his bathroom, flicks on the light to fix her hair, and looks at herself in the mirror. There’s glitter all under her eyes, and Kaz’s blood on her cheek. She licks her finger and wipes it off.

She leaves the gun on the bathroom counter, and turns out the lights. She finds Kaz sitting upright, looking at her looking more sober than he has in probably months.

“Ocelot will be in touch,” she says, standing in the doorway.

Kaz nods. “See you around, I guess?” 

“Goodbye, Kazuhira.”

EVA smiles, then she leaves and doesn’t look back.

* * *

**_April 3rd, 1978_ **  
**_Tangier, Morocco, North Africa_ **

She’s at a cafe on a busy street in the evening, sipping coffee and smoking a cigarette. The air smells like salt and sand, and it's the kind of dry heat that makes her eyes water. She's people watching when a young man in a hurry drops an envelope on her table and disappears around the next corner. Her pulse starts high in her throat, and she sips a few more times before reaching for it.

EVA turns it over in her hands. She resists opening it, right then and there. The first and only time she’d ever held a photo of them was when she should’ve been holding them instead. Zero had taken that moment away from her, too.

She finishes her coffee, and heads back to her hotel room.

It’s dark out by the time she makes it back. Her hands shake as she locks the door. Her motel room is more lavish than her usual fare, oceanside, expensive. White walls and gauzy white curtains, a high ceiling, a four poster bed and a balcony that looks out to the water. She forces herself to take a deep breath, and changes into something more comfortable. A white silk robe, a satin shift. 

She hauls the pale green phone out onto the balcony, the line stretched long where it sits on the rickety wooden table, framed by two chairs. She slips the corner of the envelope beneath the ceramic ashtray. She takes a seat, and picks up the phone before it even starts ringing. Right on time.

“I trust you got my package,” says Ocelot, on the other end of the line.

“I did.”

“Good. Our man is on the move. Looks like he got your message loud and clear.”

“I’m glad.”

“What did you tell him?”

“The exact same lie you did.” 

There’s a silence. A rustle of papers. 

“Have you looked at them yet?” he asks.

“Not yet. But I will.”

“Remember-- all you can do is look. Don’t get any bright ideas.”

“Don’t patronize me,” EVA says. “I know that.”

“Of course. I apologize. I wouldn’t doubt you-- you're not one to cling to what could've been.” He pauses. “By the way, I left another little something for you inside. I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“Thank you. Do you need anything else?”

“Not for now. But I’ll be in touch.”

“Send him my love,” EVA says.

Ocelot chuckles. “Always.”

She hangs up. The ocean breeze, warm and stinking of salt, cards through her hair. EVA takes a deep breath, then reaches for the envelope.

The paper tears evenly with gentle fingers. She stills her hands as she shakes out the contents. A fat cigar falls into her lap, and her eyes start to blur before she realizes it. She places it on the edge of the ashtray, then slips her fingers into the envelope to draw out the photographs.

The first photo is David, his name written in Ocelot’s careful penmanship along the bottom of the polaroid. He’s staring sullen faced at the camera, wearing clothing a few sizes too big for him, situated in the middle of what she assumes to be his foster family. He’s much too young for an expression that hardened. His hair is more blonde than she thought it would be. She runs a thumb over his cheek, and sniffs. 

“So big already,” she murmurs, to herself.

The second photo is Eli. Blonde, too. He’s smiling in his photo, but there’s something manic about it. He’s not aware of the photo being taken, likely from a distance, and he’s not looking at the camera. He’s wearing a school uniform, and he’s clearly picking on some other little boy. They’re old enough for school this year, that’s right.

She holds the photos in her fingers, and lets herself soak in every detail. Her sons. The sons of Big Boss. They’re safer, away from her. Away from all of this, even though she knows it’s inevitable.

EVA reaches for the cigar. She lights it, breathing until the air is heavy with his scent. It’s comforting. Like having his arms wrapped around her, like hearing his voice. Another little piece of him.

She stands, going to the edge of the balcony. The ocean is dark down below, the stars bright in the sky. There are lights in houses where there are families, people falling in love. She takes a long draw off the cigar, watching the smoke dance before her. She looks at their faces and wonders if they, too, will become the same man. If maybe, things could be different.

Then, she flicks the lighter beneath the photos. The celluloid catches flame before long, and the pictures burn into ashes in her fingertips. She holds on as long as she can, until it hurts.

The wind steals the ashes of her children away. EVA smokes the cigar until she can’t stand it, then casts it off the balcony. She watches the spark tumble down and down until it disintegrates into the darkness below.

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic in 2016 and realized it was good enough to come back to all these years later. 
> 
> Credit to [@l1ng_](https://twitter.com/l1ng_) for the beautiful artwork.


End file.
